shall contain a thought. He will
not be gulled into experiments upon decent-looking, respectable dross and
plausible inanity. He shall not dig hungrily for an idea, and be filled
with volumes of wind. With the fourteenth pang his anxiety shall be over,
and he shall drop asleep satisfied; _tandem dormitum dimittitur_.

Not to anticipate farther our forthcoming book, nor to forestall the
critics in any more extracts, we shall lay before the reader two or three
samples of work done according to this system. CARLYLE has furnished our
raw material. His pages are so full of poetry that little time need be
expended in selecting a fit piece for working up. See now if these be not
sonnets which BOWLES might have been proud to claim. Each one is warranted
to contain a thought; an hour or so would suffice for the completion of
half a dozen such. Observe too, that little deviation is necessary from
the original, the words falling naturally into both rhythm and rhyme. We
commence with a few translations from Carlyle. The initial specimen is
taken from Herr TEUFELSDROeCKH'S remarks on BONAPARTE. This is the passage:

'The man (NAPOLEON) was a Divine Missionary, though unconscious of
it, and preached through the cannon's throat this great doctrine:
_La carriere ouverte aux talens_; 'The Tools to him that can
handle them.' . . . Madly enough he preached, it is true, as
Enthusiasts and first Missionaries are wont, with imperfect
utterance, amid much frothy rant, yet as articulately perhaps as
the case admitted. Or call him, if you will, an American
Backwoodsman, who had to fell unpenetrated forests, and battle
with innumerable wolves, and did not entirely forbear strong
liquor, rioting, and even theft; whom notwithstanding the peaceful
Sower will follow, and as he cuts the boundless harvest, bless.'

SARTOR RESARTUS: BOOK II., CHAP. VIII.

SONNET I.--NAPOLEON.

Napoleon was a Missionary merely,
Who through the cannon's throat this truth expressed,
Unconsciously, divinely and sincerely,
_The Tools to him that handles 'em the best._
Madly enough, indeed, the man did preach,
Amid much rant, as all Enthusiasts do,
And yet with as articulate a speech
As the strange case, perhaps, allowed him to.
Or call him a Backwoodsman, if you will;
Who, forced to fell unpenetrated woods,
And doomed innumerable wolves to kill,
Got drunk sometimes, a